At the same time.
Julian Johnsons' cold lips curved into a strange, colorful smile.
The others didn't know who the masked woman was, but he and Isabella Lindsey recognized her immediately.
"Happy birthday, Waldor!"
The masked woman handed over a gift box with pride to Waldor Jones, "I was late because I was out buying your gift."
"Just being here is enough, no need for gifts."
Waldor accepted it, smiling awkwardly, pointing at the mask on her face, "Take it off quickly, let us see who you are."
"Can't you recognize my voice?" the masked woman frowned.
"It's somewhat familiar, but not quite the same... Your voice is hoarse, like you've cried a lot, as if your throat is damaged." Waldor was not entirely sure.
"..." The masked woman felt a pang of uncertainty; she had indeed cried a lot today, emerging from the hospital still in tears.
After all, being disfigured was a huge deal.
"Yeah, who on earth are you?"
"Stop keeping us in suspense."
